


Faded

by CrashxBurn



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-10 04:20:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21476071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrashxBurn/pseuds/CrashxBurn
Summary: Set shortly after Robin Hood leaves town with Roland and Marian, Regina can't cope with her grief. She's on the verge of drinking herself to death and won't speak to anyone but Henry. A memory potion gone wrong presents a serious problem for her and her family, but it might also present her with a second chance at living without the pain.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! Here is another story I've started writing. I hope you will enjoy it. I have to warn you that it is very dark to begin with and may trigger some people, but it does get better along the way. This has mentions of OutlawQueen in the beginning but will eventually be a SwanQueen story.

**Chapter 1**

Nothing. That’s what I feel right now. Robin left town a week ago and nothing has been the same since he stepped over the line that separates Storybrooke from the rest of this world. I know I’ll likely never see him again, and at first that pain seared through me like a hot poker. Then, when I became tired of crying every single second of the day, I decided it had to end. It was at that moment that I ripped out my heart, hid it with magic in my vault, and picked up a bottle of whiskey and several pain pills. Now I feel the bliss of absolute nothingness. My chest is hollow where my heart should be and the pain is gone. I go about my day with a fake smile plastered on for the benefit of the people around me. I don’t need them to know that I’m so empty.

Then there is the matter of Emma Swan. Ever since Robin left, she won’t leave me alone. No matter how nasty I am to her, I get the feeling she won’t desist unless I physically hurt her or someone she loves. She’s decided that she’s a hero and that heroes don’t give up hope. She means to cheer me up with her lunch visits and random appearances at my house on the weekends, but her presence only serves to irritate me because it cuts into my “me” time. It’s not often that I stay sober anymore. Even at work I have a few bottles of good liquor tucked away to sip on throughout the day. I keep a bottle of pills in my purse which I take whenever I feel any hint of emotion edging its way back in. Thank the gods I have leverage to blackmail Dr. Whale if he doesn’t comply with my prescription needs and keep his mouth shut.

On this particular Wednesday morning, I’m at my office in City Hall. I’m sorting through piles of paperwork and wishing I had a revolver to shoot myself in the head. I pop my third pill of the morning and it’s not even 10 o’cock. The rational part of my brain tells me every once in a while that I’m asking for liver failure with the amount of alcohol and narcotics I’ve been putting in my body, but the rest of my brain tells logic to shut up because I just don’t care anymore. If someone found me dead at my desk one day, it really wouldn’t make a difference to anyone. At long last the Evil Queen would be dead, never to darken another doorstep again.

I’m signing off on a budget report when there’s a knock at my office door. Sighing heavily, I look up and drawl tiredly, “Come in…” The door opens and there is Emma Swan dressed in jeans, a white top, and a red leather jacket. Infuriating. The worst part is that she’s wearing a hopeful smile as she steps into my office. “Hey, Regina. I just came to drop this off,” Emma says to me while brandishing a manila folder I hadn’t noticed before. My shoulders slump with relief as I nod my head in acknowledgment. Hopefully this means she’s here on business only and will leave me to my work again in a small amount of time. She drops the folder on my desk and then lingers, seemingly wanting to say something. So much for being left alone.

“I, uh…” She clears her throat and I arch one eyebrow in question. _Spit it out_, I think to myself. I’m eager to get back to work so I can leave early for the day. Emma shifts on her feet and stuffs her hands into her jean pockets, looking nervous. “Well,” she says, “I wanted to check on you. Ever since…” She hesitates, looking scared to continue, and I know what she’s about to say. It doesn’t take a mind reader to know what comes next. “You’ve been different lately. I’m worried about you.” I sigh and lean back in my chair, piercing her with a displeased gaze. “Your concern is unnecessary, Sheriff.” She looks a little hurt and a lot taken aback, but I’m in no mood to coddle her or worry about her feelings.

“Oh-kay… I guess I’ll just leave you to your work, then.” Emma turns and walks to the door and my body begins to loosen from the tension that had been taking over during our awkward exchange. She stops at the door and turns back for just one second, long enough to say formally, “Good day, Madam Mayor.” Then she’s gone and I’m free to wallow in my emptiness once again.

~*~*~*~*~

One Week Later

It’s Monday morning and I’m supposed to be at the office. Actually, I was supposed to be at the office two hours ago. Somehow I can’t find the will to care. I’m so hungover I can barely stand to sit up, let alone face the day. My head is pounding and my mouth is dry. The tiny amount of light streaming through my curtains is only making things worse. It’s like having needles shoved in my eyes every time I open them. I weakly raise my right hand and use a bit of magic to close the curtains from where I’m lying in my bed. I reach down for the bottle of whiskey next to the nightstand and open it, taking a long swig and then another. The alcohol burns pleasantly down my throat and I hope that soon it will kick in so I don’t feel as miserable. I set the bottle down on the floor then fumble for the bottle of pills in my nightstand drawer. I down two of them at once then close my eyes and roll over, burying my face in my pillow and hoping that sleep will reclaim me.

When I wake again, it’s dark outside and there’s someone rubbing my shoulder soothingly, trying to get me conscious. I crack one eye open and see that it’s Henry. I close my eye again and sigh internally. This is not what I need right now. He’s supposed to be with Emma this week, so why is he here with me? “Mom? Please wake up. I know you didn’t go to work today. And… people are starting to talk around town.” I can hear in his voice that he’s worried about me, but I don’t know what to say to ease that worry. I’ve always vowed that I wouldn’t lie to him ever since the curse was broken. I don’t want to start lying to him now. I sit up very slowly and rub my forehead. I look over at him with dead eyes and ask quietly, “What are they saying?” It’s not that I actually care, but I can tell that he does.

Henry shifts closer to me on the bed and takes my left hand in his right one. He gives my hand a squeeze and begins to explain. “They’re saying that you’re becoming a drunk. That you don’t care about anyone or what happens to this town anymore. Is that true, Mom?” I squeeze my eyes closed and take a deep, steadying breath. I hadn’t thought I was being so obvious. I open my eyes again and look at him with as much feeling as I can muster, but I’m sure that my gaze is mostly vacant. “It’s not that simple, Henry. I just… I can’t right now. I don’t _feel_ anything, and I don’t want to.” Henry nods. “This is about Robin Hood leaving,” he says. It’s not a question. I nod slowly in confirmation and he wraps his arms around me in a tight hug.

“I’m not giving up on you, Mom. I know we can get through this together. Can I stay here tonight? Please?” His eyes are so sincere and so full of love. How can I possibly refuse my little prince? This is his home, too. I nod and smile weakly, though it doesn’t reach my eyes, and I answer in a quiet voice, “Of course you can, Henry. Have you eaten yet?” He shakes his head in the negative and I resign myself to getting out of bed and cooking something for the both of us. I haven’t eaten anything in days. I slip out from beneath the covers and grab my matching blue silk robe to have some modesty over the tiny nightgown I’m wearing. Henry averts his eyes then follows me downstairs to the kitchen. “I’ll help you,” he insists, ever the gentleman. He’s a smart boy and he knows I’m not feeling up to this challenge.

We end up going with something simple that only takes a few minutes to put together. Soon we’re sitting at the dining table with sandwiches, which truly speaks of my mental state because never have I ever served sandwiches for dinner. Those are for lunches only. We eat in silence because I can’t bring myself to have a conversation, and it seems that Henry understands. After the plates are loaded into the dishwasher, Henry gives me a big hug and says he’s going to go upstairs to read some of his comic books before bed. I force on a smile and tell him good night before wandering into my study. He’s old enough to take care of himself now and I know that Emma is just a phone call away if anything serious happens.

I sit on my sofa with the fireplace crackling merrily. It’s a stark contrast to the coldness I’m feeling inside. I stare blankly into the flames as I finish one drink after another. Within the hour I can’t keep my eyes open and I know I have no hope of making it upstairs with how drunk I am. As I’m in the middle of passing out, I wish that things were different. I wish that I didn’t have to remove my heart to dull the pain. I wish I didn’t have to drink myself to emptiness every day and night. I wish that my son wasn’t upstairs worrying about me and that Robin Hood would magically appear back in my life, single and ready to love me without constraints. But wishing is for fools. No one is going to grant my wish, so I succumb to the darkness where no dreams await.

~*~*~*~*~

It’s the beginning of November and winter is here. I haven’t been to work in two months and I’ve been shut in my house for the majority of the days since Robin left. Henry stops by every day to check on me, but he’s the only one I’ve spoken to in over a month. Even stubborn, thick-headed Emma Swan got the hint and stopped dropping by. There’s nothing she can do for me anyway. Henry tells me that Snow White has taken over the post of Mayor, and quite frankly I don’t give a fuck. Let her have it.

Today I decide to leave my house. The booze and the pills aren’t working anymore and I’m in constant pain, stuck between crying hysterically and throwing things at the walls and rocking myself to sleep that doesn’t come easy. I gather up all of my strength and teleport to the entrance of my vault. I let myself in and find the box where I’ve hidden my heart. If it weren’t for Henry I would crush it and end the pain once and for all. I don’t see the point of living anymore if this is what life has to offer me. Instead of crushing my heart, I force it back into my chest and gasp, falling to my knees and planting my palms flat on the stone floor. Holy shit. The pain and anger sweep through me in tidal waves. Everything is amplified tenfold now that I have my heart back.

It takes me a long time to pick myself up off the floor and wipe away the tears that have been streaming down my sunken face. I only see one option moving forward. I have to forget him. I have to erase all of my memories of ever knowing or loving Robin Hood. With that goal in mind, I work tirelessly to brew up a strong memory potion in the depths of my vault. Hours later it is complete and I’m holding a vial of blue liquid in my hand. A ghost of a smile crosses my lips as I look down at my salvation. I clean up the vault then teleport myself back home. I settle down in bed and, without thinking twice, I down the memory potion in one big swallow. It creeps down my throat like ice and then I can feel it beginning to work.

Memories flash through my mind before disappearing into the abyss. At some point I must have passed out, because when I wake up I’m very confused. I sit up straight in bed, startled, and begin to look around with wide, fearful eyes. Where am I?


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Where am I?_

The last thing I remember is being in my canopy bed at Mother’s estate. I had been forced to bed early the previous night because an important visitor was coming for breakfast and I was told under no circumstances would I look tired. It was probably a new possible suitor that Mother deemed worthy of my hand. But now… Now I don’t know where I am or how I got here. As I look around me, everything is foreign. The bed I’m sitting in is not my own and the furnishings are peculiar. I begin to panic and feel my heart racing in my chest. Is this some sort of magic spell gone wrong? I haven’t been anywhere near Mother’s vault recently, so I can’t imagine how this happened. As I’m moving to get out of bed, my fingers brush against a glass vial that has one tiny drop of blue liquid left inside of it.

I pick it up with a curious frown and wonder what kind of potion had been held within the glass confines. And, more importantly, did I drink it? I can’t remember. Tears are welling up in my eyes and I wrap my arms protectively around my midsection right before a knock sounds on the bedroom door. I stiffen immediately and terror is splashed across my face. Am I being held captive? But something doesn’t feel right about that idea. If I’m being held captive, then wouldn’t my jailor have me in some sort of cell? “Mom?” A voice calls out through the door and I look around, confused. I can tell the voice belongs to a young man, but it doesn’t seem to be threatening in the slightest.

It’s as I’m getting to my feet that I notice what I’m wearing. Or rather, what I’m _not_ wearing. I’ve never seen garments like these before. On my top half is a scarlet blouse with small buttons and sleeves that cap my shoulders. On my bottom half is the shortest, tightest skirt I can imagine. I’m so confused that the only solution left is to answer the door. Perhaps the young man on the other side will be able to answer my questions. I pull the door open and come face to face with a teenage boy who is as tall as I am and dressed just as strangely. He’s wearing denim pants and a button-up shirt in blue plaid with long sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His expression is one of deep concern and somehow that calms me.

“Mom?” He asks again, and now I realize he’s speaking directly to me. The look on my face must have been one of deep surprise and confusion, because the look on his face shifts to one of even greater concern. “Who are you?” I ask hesitantly. “I fear you must be mistaken. I do not have a son.” His eyes widen and his mouth drops open. “Oh no,” he groans. “You didn’t…” I tilt my head curiously and am about to ask what he means when he beats me to it. “You used magic, didn’t you?” His voice is accusing and I take a step back, wrapping my arms around myself once again. “I certainly did not,” I answer quietly. “I don’t know where I am or how I got here, but I would never use magic.”

I watch as the boy takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Then he reaches one hand out to me and says, “I’m Henry. I’m your son. I know you can’t remember it right now, but it’s true. You’re in a town called Storybrooke and you _do_ use magic. I’m guessing you made a forgetting potion and it went wrong.” I look at his hand then back to his face. I take his hand timidly and give it a small shake. He seems earnest enough and like he doesn’t want to hurt me. But how could this be true? I think back to the small vial I found in the bed with me. Could it really be that I’ve accidentally erased so many years from my memory that I now have a son?

The tears I’ve been holding back spill over as I take my hand back and curl it against my stomach. He moves in like he’s going to hug me but I instinctively take another step back and he stops. He raises both hands in a calming gesture and says, “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. We’ll get your memories back.” He lowers his hands and stares over my shoulder, looking lost in thought. “Until then,” he continues, “there are some things we need to talk about.” I nod my agreement and hesitantly step out of the room in which I’d woken. He holds out his hand I take it in my own. He gives my hand a squeeze then leads me down the hall to a stairwell that overlooks a beautiful foyer. Whoever decorated this house has exquisite but dull taste. The colors are muted, mostly black, white, and grey.

Then it occurs to me that this must be _my_ house. That means I decorated it. I can’t imagine how this color palette would have ever appealed to me. I wonder then what other things have changed in the years I can’t remember. Who am I today? I suppose Henry will be able to tell me these things. At least I hope so. An hour passes and we’re sitting on a plush white sofa in what he’s informed me is called a living room. He has a photo album spread out in his lap and he’s walking me through it picture by picture, telling me the stories behind the photographs and filling me in on so many events that I can’t recall. By the end of the album, my grief and confusion are less and now my curiosity is boiling over.

He closes the book and sets it aside, so I grab his hands in my own and ask eagerly, “Will you tell me more about this world? There’s still so much that I don’t know…” He starts by giving me a guided tour of the house. He explains things like electricity and technology. These are difficult concepts for me to grasp, but he shows me how to use the television and calms me down when I panic and ask how people have been trapped inside the screen. I find out that it’s not magic and that no one is actually trapped in there. Fascinated, I follow him to the kitchen where he explains how all of the different appliances work. He tells me that I’m a fantastic cook but I’m not sure I believe him. Mother never allowed me to learn to cook.

He offers me something to eat for breakfast and I agree because my stomach is empty and grumbling. We sit at the dining table beside one another and eat from bowls of oatmeal and fruit that he prepared for us. Now that I’m learning more and more, I feel a lot more relaxed and less frightened of this strange world. I feel a natural pull toward Henry and a motherly instinct to protect him, so I know that this isn’t some farce someone has cooked up to fool me. Now all that’s left to do is get my memories back. I can’t imagine why I would have removed them in the first place, but Henry hasn’t mentioned a reason yet. It’s after breakfast that I decide to question him about it. Perhaps he will have the insight that I am missing.

“Henry?” I ask as he’s putting our plates in the dishwasher. He turns his head to look at me questioningly. I fidget on the spot and wring my hands together nervously. “Do you know why I would take a forgetting potion?” He stands and closes the dishwasher door with a sigh. Then he looks at me with all seriousness and nods in the affirmative, saying, “I do. Let’s go for a walk and I’ll explain it to you.” I agree and follow him to the front door where he hands me a black winter coat with silver clasps. I pull it on and he leads the way outside. It’s freezing cold and our breath fogs in front of us as we walk toward the street. I stop when I see a large metal machine with a coat of shiny black paint and the strangest wheels I’ve ever seen. He quickly explains to me that it’s called a car and that it’s like a carriage that runs on its own with the help of gasoline.

We walk down the street side by side and he begins to tell me about how Storybrooke was created, how I was the Evil Queen and I made the town to get my revenge on Snow White. I interrupt him frequently with questions but he is patient with me and answers every single one. Soon I am up to date on the history of the town, but that doesn’t answer my other question of why I would want to forget everything. That’s when he tells me about Robin Hood. I scrunch my nose at the name, thinking it’s an odd one, but I listen intently as he explains how I grew to love Robin and his son Roland, how I thought I’d finally found my happy ending only to have it ripped away. We stop walking when we reach a park a few blocks away from our home.

We sit on a bench as the breeze whips at our cheeks and reddens our noses. “So I loved this Robin Hood and couldn’t bear to live with the pain when he left town with his wife, whom everyone had thought was dead?” I shake my head and try to take it all in. I feel a bit of sorrow for myself at what I must have gone through, but there’s no real pain since I don’t actually remember. “That about sums it up,” Henry says with a nod. “Come on,” he adds, standing after a few minutes and reaching for my hand. “We should get back inside. But first, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

Intrigued, I take his hand and stand from the bench. “May I ask who?” I inquire as we begin walking down the street once again. He grins and asks, “Remember when I told you about my other mom? Emma? Well, she’s been really worried about you the last few months. I know she’d like to see you and know that you’re okay. And I’m sure she can help us to make a remembering potion.” I nod with a smile and say agreeably, “If you think it’s for the best, then I will be happy to make her acquaintance.” He laughs a little and says, “You talk so strangely. Not that it’s a bad thing. I’m just not used to it.”

It isn’t long before we arrive at a door with peeling white paint surrounded by brick walls. Henry raises his fist and knocks, and within moments the door is pulled open. “Henry!” Emma exclaims with a beaming smile as she pulls him in for a hug. Then she looks over his shoulder and sees me. Her eyes widen and her smile falters for a split second. “Regina…” I smile at her and extend my hand the way Henry had taught me. “Hello. I assume you are the Emma Swan that Henry has told me so much about.” Emma stares down at my hand then looks back up to my face with a confused expression. Of course I had forgotten that she doesn’t yet know that I have no memories of my life here.

Emma looks at Henry accusingly and says, “Okay, Kid. Spill. What the hell is going on here?” Henry looks sheepishly down at his feet then back up to his blonde mother with a crooked grin. “Well… She sorta… Took a memory potion to forget Robin. Only it made her forget everything since she was 17 years old.” Emma gasps and looks at me with a pained expression. I can see questions swimming in her eyes but she doesn’t ask them yet. Instead she ushers both of us inside the warm apartment where two other people are standing in the small kitchen area. One of them, a brunette woman, is rocking a sleeping baby in her arms. The other one, a tall blonde man, is watching over her shoulder with a loving expression on his face.

From what Henry has told me about this town, I know that these people must be Snow White and Prince Charming, or David and Mary Margaret as they’re called in this land. “Mom, Dad,” Emma calls through to the kitchen. “We have a problem.” I follow Henry and Emma’s lead and walk over to the happy duo. Mary Margaret looks up and her eyes brighten further as she sees me standing there. “Regina! It’s so good to see you out of your house. You look… better.” Emma shakes her head and holds a hand up to stop her mother from speaking. Then Emma explains seriously, “That’s because she can’t remember anything. She thinks she’s 17 and living in the Enchanted Forest still.”

Snow’s face drops and shock is written all over. David looks equally stunned but quickly snaps out of it to take the baby from his wife. David carries baby Neal over to his cot and settles him in while Mary Margaret puts her hands on her hips and scowls. “But why, Regina?” I look between all of them and bite my lower lip shyly. “I… I don’t remember… But Henry told me it’s because of Robin Hood.” Suddenly it seems to make sense to everyone in the room. “Oh, Regina,” Snow murmurs sympathetically. She walks over to me and embraces me tightly. “I’m so sorry,” she says into my ear. Henry pipes up then and speaks directly to Emma, “We need to find a way to reverse this. I thought maybe you would be able to help.”

Emma looks absolutely determined as Mary Margaret pulls away from me, releasing me from her strong grip. “I’ll do everything I can, Kid. Have you two eaten breakfast yet?” Henry nods and says flippantly, “Oatmeal and fruit,” as he walks over to Neal’s cot to stare down at the baby boy with affection. I want to go over and see the baby too, but I still feel like an outsider here. Instead I take a moment to discreetly study Emma. She’s beautiful beyond words and so, so strong. I can tell there’s a fire in her spirit and it’s drawing me toward her. I wish I was that strong and that I could have successfully stood up to Mother on more than one occasion. Then I remember that I’m grown and that Mother isn’t here.

Cora cannot control me any longer and I find myself endlessly grateful for that fact. I look away from Emma as she looks toward me, and I know I’ve been caught staring. A blush heats up my cheeks and I shuffle my feet a little with my hands clasped behind my back. Emma smirks over at me and it looks like she wants to say something, but she doesn’t. Instead she walks over to Henry and whispers something into his ear. He nods quickly then looks at me with a grin. “Mom, Emma is going to take you to your vault so you two can try to make a reversal potion. I’m going to go with David to practice sword fighting. Are you going to be okay without me?” I know I must seem a little hesitant when I don’t answer right away, but after a moment I smile and say that I will, in fact, be okay. I’m sure that Emma won’t let anything bad happen to me. For some reason I feel safe with her.

Henry and David leave the apartment, talking amongst themselves quietly, and Mary Margaret begins cleaning up the kitchen while Emma walks over to me. “You ready?” I look into her eyes and nod slowly. Emma bites her lip contemplatively then says, “It will be faster if we travel there by magic. Are you okay with that?” My eyes widen in fear and my heart beats a little faster. “I… I… I don’t know,” I stumble over my words. Mother always used magic to punish me and hurt others for her benefit. Emma seems to know what’s on my mind. She reaches a hand out and gently squeezes my right shoulder, saying, “It’s okay. I know what you’re thinking, but I only use light magic. It won’t hurt you or anyone else.”

I close my eyes and take calming breaths, feeling my heart rate slowly return to normal. I open my eyes and I’m met with a sea of green that takes my breath away. I can’t help but to trust her, so I smile slowly and say, “All right. We shall do this your way.” She takes me by the hand and the next second a cloud of white smoke surrounds us. I feel like I’m being pulled in a dozen different directions and my stomach is rolling with nausea when we reappear in a cemetery. I grasp Emma’s hand tightly for support and my other hand rests on my abdomen to try and calm down. I look up to find that we’re standing in front of a large mausoleum. I gulp as she leads the way inside and I hope we can find what we’re looking for without any more magical mishaps.


End file.
